Deep in the swirling dark water river eddy plunged the soul of a lonely heart, once entrapped in the relentless pull downward of the twisting liquid spiral, the feeling of hopelessness expired and for the first time the jumper felt light headed and free of torment, hardly knowing that his breathing stopped, there was no pain in his escape, only joy amidst an impenetrable wall of slience, his hands reached out, palms down, to feel the soft lichen moss that formed the bed on which his dreams were floating, a border of festive white topped mushrooms encircled the moss, to his surprise, they were speaking to him, to his greater surprise his relatives who were already dead appeared, sitting on the mushrooms which had grown in size to form comfortable chairs, they took turns discussing his folly at taking his own life, after a minute of this, the jumper grew angry, who were they to judge him, to discuss his despair, to lament his poor decision-making, cowardice, ineptitude and other deficiencies not worthy of mention, who were they indeed, his anger rose, and suddenly he was awake, no longer dead, hungry for air, he pushed hard to the surface, where the rescue team was now waiting, covering him with warm wraps they sped to the hospital, as the jumper sipped hot tea, the moon reflected whimsically on the waves, creating a rippling mirror of life, his deceased relatives were still sitting on their mushroom chairs far below, He wondered if he could do this when he himself dies, why did you jump, he heard a gruff voice asking him over and over, why indeed, the better question is why he changed his mind and came back to the surface to breathe, because no one can anger you more than the dead, he calmly said.
Posted on: Mon, 07 Oct 2013 06:17:56 +0000
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